The Descendant of the Original

BEXLEY

He growled.

I’m serious. The man just freaking growled.

Yeah, maybe I kind of just told him I’ve been wanting to get in his pants, but his reaction was to growl?

Grandpa quietly left the room when the conversation about mates started. I guess it was just too much for him. Too much, too soon. Yep, I’m with Grandpa on this. I can’t do werewolves. Nope, not happening. Not in my world.

Oh, my God, werewolves! They don’t even exist! Or…they’re not supposed to exist, yet they do? Holy shit!

Okay, yes, I’m freaking the hell out right now. Who really gets told that supernatural beings are real?

I gotta get out of here. Now.

As I drive off, my phone rings. It’s Treyton. Oh, Lord, I can’t deal with him right now. I can’t handle anyone. Even Grandpa is a freaking werewolf. Everyone in this godforsaken town is. ~I’m~ supposed to be.

“Supposed” being the key word. As long as I stay away from that damn hot tattooed guy, I’ll be normal. I’ll be the same me as always.

The only problem is, I want to sleep with that hot tattooed guy so damn bad, it’s killing me.

I press harder on the gas. Getting away is my only answer.

***

Eight hours, thirty-eight missed calls, and sixty-two ignored texts later, I finally stop at a hotel somewhere in South Dakota. I didn’t realize where I was headed when I left but—oh, well. What I need is a good night’s sleep.

I rub the center of my chest with the palm of my hand. There’s an ache there for some reason that won’t go away. I’m not sure what’s wrong with me; I may need to go to the doctor if it gets any worse.

I did exactly what Grandpa was afraid I’d do: run. So I text him three words.

“I’m sorry, Grandpa.”

Then I turned off my phone.

Around four in the morning, I hear knocking at my door. Who in the world is bothering me at this time of morning? I’m drowsy and not thinking like myself, without asking who it is, I immediately open the door and there, standing with his hands on each side of the door frame, looking frazzled, is Hot Tattooed Guy.

“Treyton.”

He grabs me in his arms, puts his face in the crook of my neck, and inhales deeply. The pain in my chest eases and fades completely away. Weird. He speaks while still nestled against my neck.

“Bexley, please, baby, tell me what happened. Tell me what you’re afraid of that made you run.”

God, he smells so damn good. He smells like nothing bad could happen and forever doesn’t sound so awful—not if it’s with him.

“I’m so sorry, Treyton.”

“Can I come in?”

I nod, not letting go of him. He lifts me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. He shuts the door with his foot and walks over to the bed and sits down with me in his lap. He puts his face back in the crook of my neck and inhales my scent like he can’t get enough. Finally, he kisses me behind my ear.

“Okay, baby, spill it. ‘Cause you had me, Seiko, and your grandpa going crazy until you used your credit card for the hotel and we figured out where you were. I hopped on the first flight out, so tell me what you’re thinking.”

Oh, God, this is really happening. Before I can even answer, Treyton’s phone rings. He looks at it and answers.

“Sam.”

I feel him stiffen as he listens to whatever this Sam person is saying.

“Are you sure…? Thanks, Sam.”

He scans the room and his eyes stop on my suitcase.

“We need to go. It’s not safe for you here.”

“What? What do you mean, it’s not safe here?”

He puts me down and heads over and grabs my suitcase, taking clothes out for me to quickly change into.

“Explain yourself, Treyton!”

“I’ll explain in the car. Please, Bexley, trust me on this.”

Before I can argue, out the door he goes with my luggage and car keys. I quickly change and head to the front to check out. I notice a scraggly-looking man sitting in the lounge, reading a magazine. He watches me as I check out and as I sign the bill and walk out the door, he’s suddenly right behind me. He leans forward and presses a knife against my side.

“You scream and I’ll kill you. Nod if you understand.”

All I can do is nod. I search everywhere in the lot for Treyton but it’s still dark out. The man pushes me forward. I feel the tip of the knife slice through my shirt, and there’s sharp pain as the blade cuts into my skin.

“Please…”

“Shut up.”

“Who are you?”

“Doesn’t matter. The king just sent me to collect you.”

“Who?”

He presses the knife harder, and I can’t help but yelp. A stream of sticky blood runs under my shirt. He pushes me around the corner to a beat-up truck and shoves me in the back seat. There’s another creepy man in the driver’s seat. We all take off without a word. My side is hurting, and this truck seems like it’s going to quit any minute or maybe fall apart.

After what seems like hours, the driver pulls into a huge warehouse that’s seen better days. I’m shoved out of the truck and pushed inside the building. It stinks; I can tell this place hasn’t been used in years.

There are several wolves like the one Treyton and I saw at the waterfall walking around, watching us. A huge man walks out from the back with a smile on his face. He’s tall, built, with dark eyes. If he wasn’t trying to kill me, I’d think he’s handsome, but there’s an undercurrent of evil that radiates off this man, making my skin turn cold.

“I’ve waited a long time for you. Seems you’ve been hiding in plain sight all this time.”

“Please don’t hurt me. I haven’t done anything.”

He comes close. So close that I can smell his breath. It smells like death and rotten meat. I almost choke.

“You should have never left California, but you did, and I finally found you.”

I watch as his front incisors lengthen, and shivers spread all over my body. This man must be one of those…werewolves.

“Who are you?”

“They call me the Rogue King. But you, my love, can call me Magnus, for I will be your mate.”

“Th—th—that’s not possible. Treyton is my mate.”

He laughs and it’s so sickly, it makes all my insides turn.

“You stupid girl. Do you think I really care who your true mate is? I will mark you here and now, and as long as I get the power I seek, I’ll let you live. Though I hear the descendants transfer their power to their mates after death, so I win either way.”

“You want my power.”

It was a statement, not a question, and the lawyer me is pissed. This man named Magnus is a power-hungry werewolf with a god complex. I prosecute men like this every day. They don’t turn furry or walk on four legs, but otherwise it’s the same.

Only this man wants to hurt me.

“I don’t think so, Magnus. What makes you think I even have any power?”

He grabs my neck and chokes me.

“Oh, but you do. You see, I have a source that specifically told me everything about you.”

I can barely breathe as he pulls me into another room and throws me against the wall. I immediately slide down in a dizzy haze.

“I will have you, and when I’m done, I’ll have your power as well.”

He slams the door and I hear a lock slide into place. I don’t even move. I just pull my legs up and hug them. I don’t even pull my shirt up to see how bad the knife wound is. What feels like an hour later, a skinny young man comes in, dragging what looks like a dirty, dingy mattress. He seems so weak that the mattress might be too much for him. There’s something about him, though, that’s different than the rest of the men walking around here. He throws the stained mattress on the floor, approaches me, and kneels.

“Are you okay, miss?”

I nod.

“My name is Andy. It’s not the best, but I brought you something to lie down on. Try to get comfortable and don’t make him angry. I’ll do my best to keep my eye on you.”

“Why?”

“I overheard there’s a pack quickly headed this way. Pretty sure they are coming for you.”

“Treyton.”

He nods.

“He wants to move, but moving you without your wolf will be difficult. So I told him you’ve been throwing up since you hit your head against the wall. The one thing he can’t stand is vomit. He put me in charge of cleaning it up.”

“Why are you helping me?”

He shrugs.

“The last thing the king needs is power. He’s a horrible person as it is.”

Andy tilts his head as if he hears something. I don’t hear anything, but his head snaps to me and his eyes find mine.

“Try not to piss him off.”

The door bursts open and Magnus storms in. He shoves Andy away and tells him to get out. After a last glance at me, Andy leaves. Magnus pulls me up by my hair and throws me onto the dirty, stained bed. Before I can figure out what his plan is, he is hovering above me and pulling my shirt off my shoulder.

“Seems we don’t have as much time as I would have liked.”

He licks the base of my neck and up my throat. I can’t help but try to squirm away. He grabs my chin and turns my face to the right.

“This may hurt some.”